


Corner of the World 6: Sunday with Lex

by serafina20



Series: Corner of the World [6]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2011-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serafina20/pseuds/serafina20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunday after the Radiohead concert, Clark and Lex play pool. Well, they try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corner of the World 6: Sunday with Lex

Lex bent over the pool table, smoothly running his cue through his fingers as sensuously as if he were caressing it. The move made Clark jealous, watching Lex fondle the long piece of wood so delicately. Of course, being jealous over an inanimate object only proved how horny he was. He hadn't known he was horny until he had first seen Lex that day, framed in the door, dressed all in black, looking pale and magnificent in the Sunday mid-morning sun. Until then all Clark had felt confused. He'd been confused all week, ever since Lex had given him the concert tickets then told him to ask Lana out.

Clark still liked Lana. She was pretty and nice and just so perfect. Clark had worshiped her for years; it wasn't like he could just turn his feelings off, right?

That's what he had told Chloe, but then his relationship with Lex totally changed. He'd given Lex a blow job and they'd fooled around. They'd done things that Clark had never even thought about doing with Lana--with anyone. And he'd liked it. A lot.

Then, after all that had happened, just as Clark was getting used to the idea that he had a… boyfriend? Lover? A whatever, Lex casually handed him a limo and Radiohead tickets then told him to ask Lana out. And the confusion and turmoil started.

"The hardest thing to do is to tell the girl you love you like her."

What was he supposed to do with that? Did Lex still like him or what? If the situation had been reversed, Clark never would have told Lex to ask someone else out. He wasn't that generous. And Lex didn't strike him as being all that generous either.

Which had to mean he didn't want Clark anymore and was trying to let him down gently by encouraging him to turn his attention to someone new. And that made Clark completely miserable, no matter how pretty Lana was.

When Lex called, Clark was sure that was it. Lex was going to tell him it was over, that he didn't want Clark any more. Or, even worse, that he'd just been humoring Clark to begin with. Or that Clark totally turned him off the week before. Or . . .

Lex kissed Clark when he arrived. Right there on the door step, long and deep. The kind of kiss that sent shivers though his stomach and made his knees feel a bit wobbly.

That's when Clark got horny. Confused, yes; wanting to know what was going on, yes. But definitely horny.

Sighing, Clark rested his cheek against the hand that was wrapped around his pool cue and watched Lex. Or, more accurately, watched Lex's butt.

Lex finally hit the cue ball, his shot neatly scattering the neat triangle in the center of the table. None of balls went in.

"Damn," Lex sighed, rising. "You know, I could have sunk one if I hadn't been distracted by you checking out my ass," he remarked casually, turning around.

Clark flushed. "I wasn't checking it out," he lied, not particularly caring if Lex could tell.

He smirked. "Sure you weren't. Your shot." He stayed leaned against the table, watching Clark through intense blue eyes.

Clark walked to the table and studied the layout like he knew what he was doing. Which he did, sort of. The goal of pool was to hit the little white ball with the cue, causing it to hit other balls into one of the pockets on the table. That part was easy. The hard part was making everything do what he wanted. It wasn't that Clark had never played pool, it was just he sucked at it. Of course, playing at the kids club during the summer on a table that was warped with chipped balls was completely different than playing with Lex's smooth balls. Uh, pool balls.

Clearing his throat, Clark leaned over, aiming carefully. The cue felt awkward in his hands.

"No, you're not doing it right." Lex draped his body over his, guiding Clark's hands. "The secret to pool is to pull back softly, then thrust," he thrust with his hips, "firmly."

Face warm, Clark swallowed hard. "Ok," he rasped.

Lex released Clark's hands, resting his on Clark's shoulders. He kept his body firmly pressed against Clark's. "Go ahead."

Drawing the cue back through his fingers, Clark focused his eyes on the white ball, and tensed his shoulders, ready to thrust. Just as he began the movement, Lex licked his neck.

The shot went wild, cue barely brushing the ball he'd been aiming for. Clark fell on the table, watching as the cue ball tapped the solid purple and stopped.

"You distracted me! That's hardly fair," Clark protested.

"Who said I play fair?" Lex murmured, caressing the oh so sensitive skin behind Clark's ear.

Clark moaned and rested his head on the pool table. For some reason, that spot behind his ear was really turning him on, making his knees feel like water and stomach clench with pleasure.

Apparently even the invincible man had his weak spots, he thought wildly.

Lex laughed deep in his throat and brushed his lips over the spot again.

"I thought," Clark gasped as Lex ravished his neck with licks, nibbles, and kisses, "that you wanted to play pool."

"I did. But now I just want to throw you on the table and suck you off," Lex replied.

"But . . .but." Clark attempted to gather the scattering straws of his mind as Lex continued his ministrations, concentrating on the spot behind his ear. "But there are balls on the table. We have to clear it."

"Hmmm." Somehow Lex made the sound vibrate through Clark's body, sending shuddering waves though him.

Lex stood. "You're right. It's my turn, right?" he asked, pulling away. He grabbed his cue and walked to the other side of the table, studying it intently

Panting for breath, Clark rose, shaking slightly as the adrenaline and arousal slowly bled out of him. Rubbing his face with his hand, he said, "You're a . . .a tease."

Lex hit the cue ball, sinking his shot. When he looked back up, his eyes were twinkling. "I believe the phrase you are looking for is 'cock tease.'"

Clark's face warmed and he looked down at the floor. Scuffing it with the toe of his beat up shoe, he shrugged. "Yeah."

There was a clink as the balls hit each other. "What's wrong?" Lex asked after a moment.

"Nothing." It was stupid, he knew, to get embarrassed over Lex's causal vulgarity, but he couldn't help it. Out of everything they had done together, from snuggling in bed to Clark sucking Lex's dick, it was mere words that embarrassed Clark the most. Life made no sense.

"Clark, tell me."

He looked up and into Lex's eyes. "It's not important. But, there is something I've been wanting to ask you." Clark hoped that Lex would let it drop if he changed the subject.

"Fire away." He leaned back over the table, taking another shot.

Clark bit his lip, then asked, "Why did you give me the concert tickets and tell me to take Lana?"

Lex missed his shot. "Because I was busy that night and couldn't go with you. Your turn."

Clark went to the table. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

Frustrated, Clark aimed at the cue ball. "I mean, you gave me that whole speech about how hard it is to tell a girl you like her and then dared me to ask her out. Why?"

"Why not? Don't you like her?"

Clark shot; the cue ball missed every other ball on the table and landed in the side pocket. "Well, yeah. But . . ."

"But you want to know why I, with whom you are currently involved with, encouraged you to ask her out," Lex finished for him, fishing the ball out.

"Exactly. I mean. . . .I mean, doesn't it bother you that I have feelings for her? And went on a not-date with her?"

Lex nodded. "Of course it does. First, because I don't think the two of you would be good together; I really don't think she's good enough for you. Second, I'm selfish. I want you to only want me. But then, you're having sex with me, not her, so I'm not too worried."

Clark flushed. "But we haven't . . ."

"Fucked, no. But there are different ways to have sex and I consider that to be what we've done. What?" he demanded on seeing Clark's expression, sounding exasperated.

"It's nothing."

"Swear to God, Clark, if you say that one more time, I'm going to . . ." Instead of finishing, Lex slammed the cue ball down, hard.

Clark dropped his eyes. "I just don't like the term 'fucked' all that much," he mumbled, looking at the floor. "I know that's what it is, but it makes it sound dirty. Like what we're doing is wrong because . . ." you don't really care about me, he finished silently.

Lex sighed. A moment later, he was in front of Clark, caressing his cheek softly. "I'm sorry, Clark. I forget how much of a virgin you are sometimes."

"Lex. . ."

"Shhh." He covered Clark's mouth with his hand and forced him to look into Lex's eyes. "You're right, sort of. Sometimes, fucking is a term used for people who don't really care for each other. They're not having sex, not making love, just fucking. But that's not the way I was using it. I consider what we did last week to be sex. I never meant to imply that I don't care for you. Because I do. A lot." He sounded both unsure and scared, as if it were something he never said.

Clark wanted to kiss him and made a move to pull Lex's hand away, but the older man shook his head.

After biting his lip, Lex leaned forward and kissed Clark's cheek. "I was trying to distinguish what we have done from what else there is. We haven't had anal sex, and a lot of people consider penetrative sex the only actual sex act. I don't. But anal sex is what I mean when I said fucked. Not in a causal way, just. . .a different way. Besides," he smiled softly, "two people who love each other can fuck too. And, one day, when you are comfortable, I would love to fuck you. Hard."

Clark shuddered, the idea running rampant through his mind. He imagined himself naked under Lex as the older man pounded into him; his cock stirred.

But they weren't done talking yet. Pulling back from Lex's hand, he asked, "Then what about Lana?"

Lex nodded, his face contemplative. Winding his arms around Clark's waist, Lex held him, almost possessively. "You're young, Clark. And you are just beginning to discover yourself as a sexual being. I know you're attracted to me and like fooling around with me. But that doesn't make your feelings for Lana disappear. I don't want you to feel like you are tied down to me."

"But," Clark protested, feeling a bit lost, "my feelings for you aren't casual."

Lex smiled as if he couldn't help it. Color blossomed on his pale cheeks and he looked away, almost like he wanted to hide.

Clark didn't want him to hide. He tugged Lex's face back and kissed him, tongue probing, seeking a way into Lex's mouth. Lex opened his mouth, sucking Clark's tongue into his. His fingers tangled into Clark's hair. As Lex deepened the kiss, he tightened his grip, entire body taunt and fierce.

When they were both breathless, the older man pulled away and rested his forehead on Clark's. "I don't feel casual about you, either," he whispered, eyes screwed shut, "but I want you to have everything, even if that everything includes Lana. No, I don't want to share you, but I also don't want you looking back on this, years from now, and resent me for taking your youth." He opened his eyes. "For taking advantage of your youth."

Nervously, Clark licked his upper lip. "But if you share me, that means I have to share you. And I'm not that generous."

Lex kissed him. "I don't think you need to worry about that. I am completely enthralled by you and don't think I could want anyone else right now. I told you, I'm not into casual sex anymore. All I want is you." He brushed his lips over Clark's chin. "Don't worry about me. You just worry about what makes you happy. No," Lex cut off Clark's protest. "You have a crush on a girl. So I just gave you the means to explore that side of your affections."

"It's just a little weird, that's all." The teen worried his bottom lip a moment before saying, "If it makes you feel any better, it was kinda uncomfortable being with her. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I like being around you better. Even when I don't know what to do."

"It's all part of my master plan," Lex purred, nuzzling the underside of Clark's jaw.

Clark sighed, pulling Lex tighter to him. "Of course, the worst part about it all was when you called me your little brother."

With one final lick, Lex pulled away. He smiled ruefully at Clark and walked back to the table. "Well, I didn't feel like I could announce on the street that you're my . . . .lover." He picked up his cue and sunk a shot.

Clark went back to the table and leaned against it. "I'm sorry I wasted your money."

Lex coughed slightly, eyes on the balls. "My father owns the stadium they were playing in. I got the tickets for free."

"Oh," Clark said, wondering if it should bother him that Lex was so rich. It wasn't like it was anything new, but, growing up with just enough money to be comfortable, it was a little disconcerting to be involved with someone who not only lived in a castle, but whose father owned an entire stadium.

After mulling it over a moment, Clark decided to just be relieved. "I felt bad for wasting the tickets, like I let not only Lana down, but you too. But I had to make sure that Chloe was ok; I mean, she had made a sort of date with Sean. I didn't want her to be killed."

Lex sunk another shot. "That's what I love about you, Clark: you're always ready to rescue whomever is in distress." He shot again and missed. "Your turn."

"I have to look out for my friends," Clark replied, bending over.

"And I have to look out for mine. You, I mean. That's why I'm trying to make this business deal with your parents. It would set you up very nicely."

Clark grimaced and shot, actually making it in for once. "I heard about that. I wouldn't hold your breath, though, Lex. I heard my dad talking and it sounded like he decided to take out another loan."

There was a dead silence. The hairs on the back of Clark's neck prickled as Lex stilled to the point of disappearing. It was eerie; it felt like he was suddenly alone in the room. He'd forgotten that Lex could do that.

He rose and turned. Lex's face was perfectly blank, eyes icy hard.

"He's turning my offer down?" asked Lex softly.

Clark swallowed. "I think so. I just think he's more comfortable going through the bank." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's nothing personal."

"Oh, don't kid yourself, Clark. This is very personal." Lex voice was hard, anger tingeing the edges. Setting his cue against the wall, he walked over to the liquor cabinet. Pouring himself a drink, he said, "He hates me so much that he can't be rational about this. I'm offering him a great deal, no interest, and practically giving him anything he could possibly need! Instead, he's going to throw away your future paying off the fucking interest on the loan. God dammit."

"Well, the bank will let him run the farm the way he wants," Clark pointed out.

Lex's mouth fell open, as if he were shocked that Clark would actually defend his father. "I said my influence would be minimal," he told Clark haughtily.

Clark sighed and put his cue on the table. "Yes, but it'd still be there. Dad's been a farmer all his life. He's used to running things a certain way, the way his dad ran the farm. I don't think he wants a . . .a city boy coming in and telling him how to run his farm."

The older man's eyes narrowed to narrow blue beams. "I may be a city boy, but I'm not completely ignorant. And it isn't as if I was going to simply stride onto the fields and announce that, from now on, we're going to do things my way. And maybe I don't know much about farming, but I do know things about efficiency that your father seems to have trouble with. For example, did you know that, for a farm the size of yours, you're about four hands short?"

Clark had to avert his eyes, his cheeks burning. "We get all the work we need done, though. We're not suffering."

"I know and I can't figure out how you're doing that. But that's not my point. Your farm needs money; what better way to earn money than to keep the farm fully staffed and increase production? Plant a cash crop or an extra field? Or something. And don't get me started on the equipment. The equipment your father buys may be cheap in the short run, but the cost of repairs really aren't worth it."

Clark was beginning to see why his dad turned Lex down. Too many explanations, too many hidden secrets. "I think he also had a problem . . .never mind," he finished quickly, not wanting to hurt Lex's feelings.

But Lex seemed to have heard his unspoken thought, anyway. He frowned, downed his drink, and poured another. "He has a problem with where the money is coming from. I get it." Lex laughed bitterly. "He doesn't want the dirty money from the bald freak."

Clark went to Lex. Taking the drink out of Lex's hands, Clark wrapped his arms around his lover. "Don't think like that. It's not you and you know it's not you." He brushed his lips over Lex's head, loving the way the soft skin felt against his lips. "I think it has more to do with your father and what Luthor Corp does. It's not personal."

Lex was gripping Clark hard. "He doesn't like me. I don't know what I ever did to him, but he hates me." He began blindly covering Clark's face with kisses, his silky lips burning like a brand everywhere he touched, marking Clark's skin as his. One hand reached up and began stroking the sensitive spot behind Clark's ear.

"If . .if," Clark hiccupped, his breath coming in rough pants, "if he knew you like I did. . . ."

Lex grabbed Clark's crotch and squeezed, forcing his cock to swell. "I don't want him to know me like you do." He pulled back and placed his hands on Clark's stomach. Looking into Clark's eyes, Lex began walking, forcing the teen to move backwards. "It would be easier to deal with this loss if I hadn't had a personal stake in it."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I worry about you, Clark. You have so much to give the world, so much potential. I just want to make sure you have the resources available to realize that potential."

"I think that my parents want to do that."

Lex raised an eyebrow. "Then they should have taken me on my offer."

Clark bumped into the pool table, halting his backward movement. Lex's gaze on his face was hot and steamy, full of wicked thoughts and unrealized desires.

Clark, achingly hard, found his pants were about three sizes too small.

Leaning forward, Lex inserted his leg between Clark's thighs. He ran his foot up Clark's inseam until his knee came in contact with the bulge in the teen's crotch. Rubbing against it teasingly, Lex murmured, "I want you." He buried his face in Clark's neck, sucking hard.

Groaning, Clark thrust his hips into Lex's knee. Perversely, Lex dropped his leg and held Clark's hips in place with his weight.

.He sucked on Clarks lower lip until it was swollen, then pulled back. "What do you want me to do to you?"

"I thought you were angry at my parents," Clark gasped, his brain still trying to function despite his arousal.

"Don't worry about that now." He licked the underside of Clark's jaw. "Worry about you." Lex kissed Clark again, brutally attacking his lips, tongue plunging in to claim all that Lex found, battling Clark's tongue, scraping along his upper palate, nibbling on his lips, before making a hot, wet trail down his neck.

Clark's hands flew back to grasp the inside edge of the table, a dark cloud of desire encasing his mind. He couldn't think, didn't _want _ to think, didn't want to do anything but feel. His fingers were kneading the hard, felt-covered wood and he forced himself to concentrate so he didn't break the table. Didn't break anything. And definitely didn't hurt Lex.

Lex pulled back. "I want to suck you off," he said, eyes on fire with lust.

"Oh God," Clark ground out between his teeth. His eyes fell shut, body tensing at the thought.

"Clark?"

"Wha?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"Yes what?"

"Do it."

One of Lex' hands gripped Clark's jaw. "Look at me," he ordered.

Obediently, Clark opened his eyes.

"Do what?"

Clark shook his head. "Lex, please."

"You know the rules, Clark."

Licking his lips, Clark shook his head again, thrusting his hips against Lex's, needing pressure on his throbbing cock. "I want it. Don't make me say it."

"You have to say it. I need to know what you want." He brushed his lips over Clark's. "You have to say it for it to be real. I need . . ."

Lex didn't finish his thought, but Clark knew what he meant. Clark had to verbalize it in order to reassure Lex it's what he really wanted.

Blushing furiously, Clark bent his head so his lips were next to Lex's ear. "I want," he whispered, "I wantyoutosuckmeoff."

"Hmmm?"

"Suck me off, Lex," Clark said again, urgently.

Lex nuzzled his face against Clark's; a smile curved his lips and cheeks, warming Clark's skin.

"One day I'm going to make you talk dirty to me, Clark." Lex kissed his cheek, and pulled back, looking into Clark's eyes. Then, not breaking contact, Lex placed his hands on Clark's chest and slid down his body.

Clark shuddered and closed his eyes. as Lex ran his hands down his chest, ghosting over his nipples, caressing the flat plane of his stomach, and coming to a stop at the waistband of his jeans.

"Look at me, Clark," Lex ordered.

He opened his eyes.

Lex was kneeling between Clark's spread legs. The older man's eyes were burning blue flame into Clark's as slowly he undid the button and fly, hooking his fingers into the waistband of the teen's boxers. Not breaking eye contact, he yanked the clothing down until it was puddle around Clark's ankles.

Then he sat back on his heels and just. Looked.

Clark blushed, liquid fire spreading up his legs, washing over his belly, warming his cheeks. Lex's gaze was a caress, a physical sensation. The weight of Lex's eyes was heavy on his skin, brushing his thighs, then devouring his cock. Desire thrummed through Clark as Lex leaned forward and, starting from the head, ran the tip of his tongue down Clark's cock to the sensitive skin behind his balls.

"Ah. . ." Clark gasped, knees trembling. Convulsively, he gripped the table, feeling the wood give underneath his fingers. With each wave of pleasure that swept through him, Clark squeezed harder.

"Like that?" Lex asked, his nose nuzzling his sack, tongue probing him intimately. His breath was hot as it washed over virgin skin.

"More," was the ragged reply.

"More?"

"Yes."

Licking his way back up, Lex smiled up at him. "If you insist." He pushed Clark's foreskin back, tonguing the weeping hole, licking his head like a lollipop.

Clark's knees abruptly turned to jelly. One of his hands skidded off the side of the table, running along the felt, looking for something to support him while his right hand continued to squeeze the wood. His left bumped into a ball. He grabbed onto it, holding tight.

Then Lex wrapped his mouth around Clark's cock and began to suck. Small suckling sounds reached Clark's ears as, with each pull, Lex took him in deeper.

Clark couldn't breathe, couldn't catch his breath. The world spun around him and Lex, while Clark's chest heaved, drawing in air in loud, ragged gasps. It was good breathlessness, not sickening, and Clark didn't understand how he was talking if he couldn't breathe, but he heard his voice babbling, "Oh God, oh . . .oh Lex . . .yes . . .oh shit! Lex. . ..God more, please, more." He was kneading the ball in time with his sobs, begging for more, needing more. His skin was on fire, sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks, neck, his chest. His shirt was damp with sweat and he knew he should take it off but he couldn't let go of the table and ball because then he might grab Lex and God he wanted to touch Lex so badly he could taste it in his mouth but he Couldn't. Hurt. Lex. Couldn't. Bruise. Lex. And

Oh God, Lex was humming. He had Clark's cock in his throat and Clark was thrusting into him helplessly Fucking Lex's mouth and Lex was just taking it and he was humming and the waves were running through Clark's body and vibrating along the length of his shaft and God Clark had never felt so fucking good and

His stomach clenched tightly in pure pleasure and he could feel that "Oh God, Lex. I'm .. . .I'm going to come," Clark panted, mindlessly thrusting into the hot, wet suction of Lex's mouth and suddenly he was pulsing into Lex, wailing, and it was so Fucking good and . . .

He squeezed the ball hard and heard a sharp crack.

Lex pulled away, coughing, eyes wide. His throat was working as he swallowed Clark's come, which wet his lips and he sat on his heels, looking beautiful. He was breathing hard, one hand touching himself through his slacks, the other, almost curiously, at his mouth.

It only took a moment from the time Lex pulled away before exuberance and excitement began flooding Clark. He dropped to his knees with a hard crack that he didn't even feel and threw himself onto Lex. He needed to share this intense joy that was racing through his veins, the insane happiness.

Somehow, Lex managed slid his legs from under his body so he could lie on the floor as Clark dropped over him. Clark caught himself with his elbows over his lover, leaning forward to kiss him deeply, tongue sweeping into his mouth. The taste of Clark's come was still on Lex's tongue and, eagerly, Clark lapped the sweet substance up, swallowing Lex whole, bruising Lex's lips in his excitement.

Wanting Lex to come, Clark began thrusting his hips into Lex's while trying to undo his fly at the same time.

Lex broke the kiss, laughing. "Jesus Christ, Clark. Calm down."  
Clark shook his head and gave up trying to finesse the fly. He ripped Lex's pants off him; Lex wasn't wearing anything underneath, just the way Clark liked it.

Shifting his body so he could comfortably grab Lex, Clark wrapped his hand around Lex's cock. Biting his tongue in concentration, he began squeezing and stroking Lex a trifle roughly.

 _If Lex comes, he thought wildly, then he can feel like me. _  
His hand moved faster.__

"Fuck! Clark, Christ," Lex shouted, arching off the floor, his body stiff. He thrust into Clark's hand, his hands gripping Clark's shoulders. His head was thrown back on the hard wood floor and it occurred to Clark that it couldn't be very comfortable, but Lex didn't seem to care. He kept thrusting into Clark, grunting and swearing.

Clark squeezed again, then slid down Lex's sweat slicked body. Concentrating on the head of Lex's cock, Clark began lavishing it with rough licks. He teased the slit, enjoying the slightly bitter taste, swirling his tongue around the head. One hand began teasing the skin behind Lex's balls, stroking it gently.

"Shiiit," Lex swore, body bucking. "I'm gonna come," he ground out before his hot seed rushed out.

Eagerly, Clark opened his mouth. Lex's come flowed over his lips, down his throat. Clark tried to swallow it all, drinking Lex in, making Lex a part of him always.

Lex was shuddering as his body relaxed, his eyes closed. He was kneading his bottom lip with his teeth, hips still thrusting slowly, a look of peace and satisfaction washing over his features.

He stretched languidly and opened his eyes. A lazy, satisfied expression lurked in the blue depths. Smile curling his lips, Lex whispered in a rough voice, "Come here." He opened his arms for Clark to lie in.

Clark snuggled against his lover. The older man leaned his head down, kissing him sweetly, his tongue brushing against Clark's. Clark returned it enthusiastically, his body trembling as the kiss touched places deep inside him.

Breaking the kiss, Lex asked, "Did you like it?"

A dopey grin spread across his face and Clark laughed. "Heck yeah. That was . . .that was amazing. It's just . . .do you know how great that is?"

"I have a clue." He kissed Clark's forehead, carding his fingers through his lover's hair. "God you're beautiful." He kissed Clark again, tongue tracing his mouth, running over each tooth until he had made Clark's mouth his. His free hand ran down his stomach, creeping under his shirt. Light fingers traced the skin around Clark's navel.

Tentatively, brain beginning to function a bit more, Clark asked, "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He'd tried so hard not to, but Clark knew he had lost control for a bit; he hated how easily he did when he and Lex were fooling around.

"No, not at all."

"You told me to calm down. Are you sure . . ."

Lex stopped him by kissing him. "Yes, I'm sure. I only said that because you got so excited; you did that last week too. Right after you came, got very impassioned."

Clark frowned. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to do?"

Lex raised an eyebrow. "There aren't any set rules, but to most people it's release. They get more relaxed as their body let's go of all the tension it's built up. After you come, you get hyper first, then you calm down. It's adorable." Sighing, he ran his fingers through Clark's sweaty hair again. "I cannot send you home like this."

"I don't have to go home yet."

"I know. I also know that I won't be able to keep my hands off you the rest of the afternoon. You think you're sweaty now, just you wait." He raised his eyebrow, smirking. "You will simply have to take a bath before you leave."

Clark rolled his eyes and shook his head, settling more firmly against Lex's body. The older man felt cold and Clark was determined not to let him get sick again. "I don't take baths."

Lex shrugged. "Well, we could take a shower, but it would seem a shame to waste my five person bathtub."

"Five person?" Clark's eyes went wide.

"With Jacuzzi settings."

"Why do you have such a big tub?"

The older man looked a bit uncomfortable. "Actually, I don't like to think about that part. I just thank heaven it's there." His hand slid down to cup Clark's ass. "So, what do you say?"

"Do you have a rubber ducky?"

Lex blushed. Clark loved it when he did that; Clark blushed all the time, Lex rarely did.

"Yes."

Clark leapt to his feet, pulling Lex up with him. "Well, let's go, then." He pulled his pants back up.

Lex gathered his shredded ones to him. "You know, this is the second pair of pants you've ruined."

"When did I ruin the other one?" Clark asked.

"When I had a wet dream about you."

Clark blushed.

"What?" Lex asked. "You've never had a wet dream about me?"

Clark blushed even harder.

Lex grinned. "So. Bath." He held his pants against him.

"Right." Clark glanced at the floor, then back up, eyes dancing with mischief. "Last one there's a rotten egg!"

Then he laughed loudly as Lex took off. Clark followed him quickly, deliberately letting Lex win. He didn't need to; the answering laugh that Lex sent his way was reward enough for losing. It was better than even his orgasm had been. And he wasn't even exaggerating.

Much.  
***

Stars were beautiful. Shiny, bright, lovely. Set against the midnight sky, they looked, to use an analogy that thousands had used before, like diamonds.

Well, Clark wasn't exactly a poet. He just liked looking at them, watching them. Wondering.

And now he knew. So many questions had been answered when his father had shown Clark his… his spaceship.

Questions. Clark had always had questions.

"Why did my parents abandon me? Didn't they love me? Was something wrong with me? Why do I wake up some nights, not able to breathe? Why does being alone scare me so much? Why don't nightlights make me feel safe?

"Why do the stars make me want to cry?"

He'd been lonely up there, traveling among the stars, in his space ship. Desperately, terribly lonely. With only a voice talking to him, saying things he couldn't understand, and nothing else. Clark knew that, had always known that, but had never understood. Never understood the panic during long nights alone in his room, never understood the need to be touched and reassured, never understood why he remembered being comfortable and warm, surrounded by light, and yet so sad, so scared. So alone.

Never understood . . .until he was told the truth.

Alien.

Alien.

Not normal.

Not human.

He wasn't human.

Clark was an . . . .

Clark sighed and pulled away from his telescope, sitting on the hard barn floor.

His first real memory was of Christmas. Past the loneliness, past the light and warmth and the voice, there was a real memory. Of him and his folks. Of Christmas morning and being held in Martha's lap, gazing at the room around him. Martha had petted his hair, kissed his face, told him a thousand times how much she loved him.

"You're my present, Clark," she had whispered. "My gift from God and how I love you. My precious baby."

And Jonathan. . .he'd been so proud. Beaming, ready to give Clark the world. He'd ruffle Clark's hair, caress his cheek, kiss him on the head.

And Clark had just. Basked in it all. The warmth, the love, the touching.

Family.

His first present had been a quilt. He still slept with it, when it wasn't in the barn, as it was now. Soup was his comfort food, and the blanket was his security.

He pulled it around him.

All his life, whenever Clark got too anxious and scared, he conjured up the memory of that Christmas. The images and emotions still rang so strongly in him, that it never failed to make him feel better.

Now Clark knew it was because that was his first Christmas. The first after he had landed. So it was the first time in Clark's life that he could remember feeling safe. Feeling loved.

Sitting with his legs over the ledge of the barn, quilt draped over his shoulders, Clark gazed up at the stars. Just like always, they made his heart ache with longing and loneliness. When Clark was younger, he had thought the longing meant that he was going to be an astronaut when he grew up. That he wanted so badly to be up there it hurt just to star gaze. So, even though in his mind he knew that he wanted to stay with his feet planted firmly on the ground, he thought his heart wanted to soar.

Apparently, he already had. In a space ship. That brought him to earth.

He wanted to know why. But, at the same time, he didn't. If he knew, then it would be real. If he said it out loud, announced to the silent night that he was from another planet, it would be real. It would mean he was really different. It would mean he really was an . . .

Clark wanted to be human. Just like everyone else. He didn't want to be different because different meant alone. He was afraid he'd always be alone.

Lana didn't understand him. She didn't get him and he didn't know how to explain without telling her and he couldn't tell her. Ever.

Lex . . .

Ah, but Lex was different too. Because he was rich, because of his family, because he was bald. Lex might understand, but then, he already seemed to. He just accepted Clark for what he was and let Clark be. Oh, he wanted to know the truth, to know what secrets Clark was hiding from him, and Clark knew he lied so badly he had no illusions about Lex knowing but . . .But Lex wasn't pushing.

And that made Clark want to trust him. Want to tell him except . . .

Then it would be real.

Clark sighed and pulled the quilt tighter around him. His breath made a soft cloud in front of his face.

Jonathan was afraid Lex would hurt him. Clark had overheard his parents arguing about it. He'd come home from Lex's after spending the day with his lover fooling around, talking, laughing. Clark was glowing when he got home and was more cheerful than he had been when he had gleefully informed his mother about his date with Lana. After Clark had left the room, the argument began. Teenager to the core, Clark simply had to listen.

They hadn't figured out what he and Lex were doing. If they had, Clark knew, his father would be over at Lex's in a heartbeat and the authorities would never find the body. But they didn't know; they just thought that Lex and Clark were good friends.

His father didn't like it. He didn't think Clark should be spending so much time with a man who couldn't seem to find friends his own age. Martha simply reiterated Clark's argument: that Clark needed Lex because Lex could understand what he was going through. Could understand what it was like to be different. And Clark needed someone to be different around right now.

But, Dad didn't trust Lex because he didn't trust the Luthors and even Clark knew there had to be a painful and very personal back story to that. But he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what it was.

Clark was certain that Lex wouldn't hurt him. Well, he was pretty sure. At least, Lex wouldn't hurt him in the way Dad thought he might. Clark knew that sexual relationships were more dangerous than platonic ones; he might get very hurt if everything went to hell, but he was going into this with his eyes open. He wanted everything he and Lex had done together and the older man hadn't pushed.

The hardest thing Clark had ever done was ask Lex to suck him off. It was mortifying, how much he had wanted it. Clark wasn't sure why his desire had been so embarrassing; after all, he had done it to Lex without more than a blush and a twinge of nervousness. But asking Lex to do him, to say it out loud, to vocalize his innermost desires . . .

Well, there was that whole verbalizing things to make them real again. The part of him that was afraid of his feelings, of what his feelings meant, hadn't wanted to say it out loud. But he had wanted it so badly and that overrode everything else. And driven by desire, he had managed to say it.

And Lex had sucked him off. Given him his first blowjob ever. Had opened his eyes a little bit more, and taken a little bit more of Clark's innocence.

Clark was beginning to feel like an onion and his virginity was being peeled away one layer at a time.

Sighing, Clark closed his eyes, his mind flying from one person he desired to another.

Lana Lang. Pretty, sweet. Goddess in training. She was so nice and open, gazing at a world that had hurt her so badly and just accepting what she saw. Things should be easy with her. She would never do anything to hurt him and yet . . .

When Clark was around her, nothing made sense. He tried so hard to be something that she would like and ended up feeling so. Stupid. Awkward. Clumsy. Dumb. And even when he wasn't falling down or doing something stupid, it felt like he had to try too hard to be the person she wanted him to be. He shouldn't have to try. All Clark could ever really be was him and if she didn't like that . . . .

But. She was Lana. And she didn't seem to want him as he was, and that was all he could be. Himself.

Clark laid down on the dusty barn floor, mind turning from one double L to the next.

Lex Luthor. Sexy. Cynical. Brilliant. Brittle. Beautiful. He was different from anyone Clark had ever known; sexual, secretive, cunning. And, around him, Clark felt more comfortable to be himself than he did around anyone else, save his parents. Lex brought out the Clark in Clark and made him free.

Free to touch Lex. Free to kiss Lex. Free to gather Lex into his arms and lavish him with kisses and caresses and Lex could kid himself all he liked, he wasn't hiding a thing. Clark knew that Lex wasn't used to be treated as if he were…

Loved. Cherished. Important.

Every time Clark touched Lex just to feel his skin, kissed him just because he could, held him just because Clark . . . .cared for him, Lex stiffened, just a bit. Thought about pulling away. Didn't know what to do. Which made Clark's heart ache and hold on even tighter.

Sometimes Clark thought Lex needed him just like he needed Lex. Not for sex, but for the freedom just to feel…

Safe.

Lex made him feel safe.

Maybe that was what Lana really meant. Not that Whitney protected her from harm or the rest of the world, but that he made her feel safe to be who she really was. Made it safe for her to explore the different facets of her identity.

Just like Lex did for him.

Clark grinned suddenly, thinking about what Lex had said about his master plan to make Clark stop pining after Lana. Real or not, it was working. Lex was opening up doors for Clark to choose to walk through or to walk away from. He didn't push, just let Clark decide. And every time Clark walked through one, something amazing happened:

He grew up, just a little, and discovered who he was a little bit more.

One layer at a time.  
***

The castle always seemed dark, no matter how many lights were turned on. There was an air of perpetual gloom that pervaded everything. Try as he might, Lex could never make it go away. It only got worse when he was anxious, like tonight. The mood got heavy and dramatic and the lighting only seemed to emphasize it. All the lights were turned on in the billiard room and the fire was roaring at full capacity, but instead of feeling safe and warm, all Lex could see was the shadows licking like flames at the corners of the rooms.

Without Clark, the castle seemed lonely and cold. Empty and…

Dead.

The pool table mocked Lex, taunting him with the secrets of the afternoon, yet refusing to tell. He stood before it, taking the entire scene in, just as it had been that afternoon: balls scattered, Clark's cue laying across the felt. Nothing had been changed.

 

Except. . . .Two thumb shaped dents now were imprinted on the red felt.

Furrowing his brow in concentration, Lex ran his fingers over the inside edge of his pool table. Underneath, just inside the top dents, were eight more, four on each side. Eight dents, plus two. Eight fingers, two thumbs. As if a someone had squeezed very hard and compressed the wood.

Squeezed impossibly hard.

He turned and leaned his back against the table. Placing his hands on either side of his body, Lex ran them out until they came to the indentions. His fingers were a bit smaller than those that had damaged his table, but not by much.

The dents were a matching pair; each finger the same size. The indents on the right, though, were deeper than those on the left.

Licking his lips, Lex thought. He closed his eyes, trying to replay that afternoon in his mind. He had been rather busy, so he wasn't sure exactly what Clark had done, but he knew this much: the teen had held onto the table longer with his right hand than his left. That was why the dents were deeper.

So, what had Clark done with his left hand? And what the hell had cracked?

Pulling away from the table, Lex turned back and studied it through dark eyes.

Damn Clark. No, damn himself and his stupid mind that just couldn't let things go. This was not what he wanted to do, not after the afternoon he had just had. He'd had six uninterrupted hours with Clark; six hours of fooling around, splashing in the tub, watching TV and talking. Making out.

Clark was a wonderful kisser and lavished so much attention, so much intensity on the art, Lex's mouth tingled for hours after the teen left.

Those six hours should have been enough to wipe the most horrific nightmares from Lex's mind. They should have left him so exhausted and sated that all he could do was collapse in bed and pretend nothing was wrong. They should have been enough ...

But they weren't. And, barely fifteen minutes after Clark had left, the tight knot of anxiety had returned to Lex's stomach, forcing him to find other troubles to turn to and occupy his mind.

So. The billiard table.

He ran his hands over the table, searching for a crack. When he failed to find one, Lex dropped to the floor and crawled underneath. Nothing.

"Damn it," Lex swore, sitting. There was just enough room for him to sit comfortably; he pulled his knees to his chest and just sat, thinking.

Clark was good for him. Clark didn't demand anything from him except that Lex be . . .well, Lex. Honest as he could be, open as he could be, and true as he could be. Clark didn't want the arrogant rich boy with expensive presents; he didn't want the cool intellect who could remark scathingly on anything; he didn't want the kinky sex aficionado that could blow his mind out. All Clark wanted was . . .

Him. In a pure, simple way. Even sexually, Clark didn't want tricks, just raw, open honesty.

And that was so fucking hard. It was hard to relax when Clark wanted to hold him. It was hard to unclench his jaw when Clark smothered his face with loving kisses. It was hard to not pull away when Clark pet his skin. Hard to allow Clark access to what he had grown used to while Lex was sick, but Lex wasn't sick anymore. He hoped.

It was hard for Lex to break years of training and, yet, Clark wasn't pushing.

Lex laughed bitterly. "This is so stupid," he said out loud. "He's just a kid. I'm all tied in knots over a kid."

A beautiful kid. A perfect kid. A kid who was so close to being a man and yet . . .yet Lex had a feeling that Clark would never lose his innocence, no matter what he did or saw. That he would always be able to look at the world and see it for it's wonderful possibilities.

Lex, no matter what Clark did to him, would always see the world in terms of what he could get from it. What he could manipulate and use to suit his needs. To make him rich. To make him powerful.

Which is why, no matter how much the conscience that had appeared when Clark had breathed life back into him screamed, Lex was driven to find the truth. Truths, such as what had really happened the day of the accident. How the roof got ripped off. Why Clark thought the meteor shower was his fault. What secrets Clark was hiding from him.

Why Clark's semen tasted like nothing Lex had ever tasted before. Sweet and . . .citrus-y and . . . .different. Something indescribable. Alien.

"Not exactly human," Lex mused. "But then, Smallville is full of people who aren't exactly human, isn't it?"

Mutants lived in Smallville. Lex was beginning to suspect there were more mutants in this little town then there were in the entire X-Men universe. Clark had told him about the anomalies, run down the whole list: the bug guy, fire coach, Tina, and Sean, the cold sucking freak.

Of course, Clark had left off the most important mutant: Clark himself. Clark. Who was strong enough to dent solid wood and whose semen tasted vaguely of oranges.

"Maybe," Lex said out loud, drumming his fingers against his shin, "he's afraid that he'll turn into a monster like the others." He crawled from under the table. "He doesn't trust himself. Well, I'll just have to let him know that I have faith in his inner goodness. I know that he'll never be bad, no matter what mutations he goes through. Then maybe he'll tell me the truth."

Rising, he turned back to the table, petting the dents. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in." Lex picked up a pool cue.

Damien walked in. "Your supper is ready, sir. Shall I have it brought up?"

"No, I'll eat in the dining room tonight."

"Very good, sir." He didn't leave.

"Yes?" Lex asked, bending over the table.

He hesitated a moment, before saying, "Your doctor called earlier, while Mr. Kent was here."

Lex kept his eyes on the table, swallowing hard. "Oh?"

"Yes. He wanted to remind you of your appointment tomorrow."

"Because I am so obviously going to forget."

"I believe that you spent all afternoon trying, sir."

Eyebrows raised, Lex glanced up. Damien's face was blank, expression inscrutable.

"Are you judging me?" Lex asked softly.

"Not at all, sir."

"Because that's not what I'm paying you for."

"No sir."

"My personal affairs and relationships are none of your business."

"I never meant to imply they were, sir."

Lex rose. "You handle my appointments, my business, occasionally wipe my nose, and . ..other stuff. That does not give you the fucking right to make snide comment about what I do with my personal time!"

Damien met his eyes. "I have never made a snide comment in my life. Sir."

"Right." Angrily, Lex bent over and shot the cue ball, hard.

It flew across the table, and slammed into the eight ball with an audible crack.

The eight ball wobbled a moment, then broke. It cracked open like an egg, two halves falling away from each other.

Lex froze, his eyes wide.

There was a long, heavy silence in which the two men regarded the split ball.

Clearing his throat, Damien walked to the pool table and picked the pieces up. Going to the book shelf, he placed them on top. Then he turned back to Lex.

"Don't worry about that now."

"But . . ."

"Worry about that when you can afford to, sir. Your plate is currently full. For the moment, be grateful that wasn't your head."

Breath coming in rough pants, Lex nodded. He pulled out his inhaler and took a few puffs. "I'm suddenly not very hungry."

"You are hungry enough for soup. Come."

With one last glance at the cracked ball, Lex obediently followed his assistant out. He had a feeling that he wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.


End file.
